


What a Feeling

by phoenixflyinghigh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barista Louis, Childhood Friends, Friends With Benefits, Louis and Zayn are human disasters, M/M, Romantic Comedy, San Francisco, Self-Growth, Teacher Zayn, Unrequited Crush, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:36:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflyinghigh/pseuds/phoenixflyinghigh
Summary: Zayn and Louis were the best of friends and had their whole lives planned out together, or so Zayn thought.Sometimes friend break-ups hurt more.  But with the help of new found friends and lovers, maybe they can heal again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I can't believe I was able to make the 20k mark! This has definitely been the longest fic I have ever attempted.
> 
> I started out this fic in the middle of a friend break-up disaster, so this story is very dear to me. 
> 
> I absolutely could not have done this with the help of my beta, the amazing ironarmortony, who gave me support when I thought I wouldn't be able to finish this fic. (Go check her blog out!)
> 
> Also shout out to my artist (coupleofartists)! Wow, you definitely managed to capture the essence of the fic.

Prologue

Zayn would be considered a loser in any young adult movie.  He still has baby fat and clunky glasses. He brings comic books to parties and reads them in the bathroom. But Louis? Louis is just _so cool_. There are days where he can’t believe his luck in snatching Louis up as his best friend.

Louis is a hurricane.  Beautiful. Even when he’s being a little shit, like right now.

Zayn grabs his friend’s wrist as one of the men crowding around them steps closer.  He’s regretting ever accepting a ride from the 18-year-old. Zayn should have known this is what happens when you befriend theatre kids.

One of the coppers grabs an empty spray can under their fresh new piece and shakes it aggressively at them.  It would be considered comical if he wasn’t, say, about twenty steps away from Zayn and Louis. The group of them don’t look happy seeing as how the mischievous duo have been able to evade them for the past two months.  

(It all began when Louis passed a note to Zayn during Maths while Zayn was actually _trying_ to concentrate on whatever Miss Griffiths was doing to the shapes on the board.

_I’ll buy you spray paint if you become my friend.  Meet me after class._

“Hey,” Louis had pointed at the note and hissed loud enough to wake up half of the snoozing class. 

And that’s how Zayn got involved in vigilante justice as a minor through art in the streets of Bradford.)

Months later and the crude red line drawn by the red-faced copper can’t disguise their words: 

_"Queer is not a 21+ identity”_

\----------------

“It’s all about reclaiming the word, Z!” Louis paces Zayn’s basement, punching his hand against his palm absently on his tirade. Thankfully the walls are thick enough that Louis’ rant won’t wake his sisters up. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, but like, what do you want me to draw?"

Louis turns around, “I don’t know, you’re the artist. Do you have any ideas?”

Zayn throws the worn stress ball in his hands against the wall, “I dunno, what about a rainbow flag with ‘more queer please’?”

He immediately knows that’s the wrong thing to say by the fire in Louis’ eyes, “Please? _Please?!_ Fucking Christ, Malik, get your fucking life together. The first pride march was a riot!” It’s so tiring being best friends with an 18-year-old theatre kid who’s just found out what Tumblr is. “That’s such an American thing to say,” Zayn hopes the eye-roll is audible to his best friend, “plus that just blurs out all the riots the community was involved in before -” “I’ve got it!” Louis waves his arms around, “Stay queer!” 

Zayn lets a few moments go by before dead-panning, “Do you really want your first statement to be a pun?”

“How is that a pun? It’s not like I’m pitching ‘ItT looks like a queer morning with blue skies,’ or something like that.”

After much deliberation and a hard ball at his face, their first statement turns out to be a pun that actually gets a bit of publicity on the third page of the Bradford Times. 

(Louis hangs it up above their fort in Zayn’s basement even though the Zayn keeps insisting that newspapers don’t even matter anymore. That the only way to know if their message is actually reaching people is if it gets any kind of traction online. But Louis insists on displaying the article and like usual, Zayn goes along with it. 

It doesn’t help that every time Zayn sees the blurry picture of their fucking pun, he feels himself slowly falling in love with his best friend.)

\----------------

Zayn knows this is what happens when you come out when you’re still living in your hometown. You fall “in love” with the first gay boy you see until you part ways and actually find your soulmate. So he isn’t worried about the growing crush on Louis. All he has to do is hope Louis doesn’t notice while it still lingers on him like teenage B.O.

But that advice doesn’t really help after they started kissing.

Ever since they met in Year 10, Zayn has spent his weekends like this: the two boys finish school, or whatever shenanigans Louis ropes him into, pay an upperclassman to get them alcohol, bike back to Zayn’s place, and then chill in their fort. 

Back then, they would lie on Zayn’s bed swigging rum while giggling about their latest heist “stealing,” in other words, switching price tags for their snacks from the nearby Tesco. Back then they were still going through the long process of learning more about each other. Zayn smiles remembering the lame games of Truth or Dare they played at the time.

Now in Louis’ last year before University, they’re still learning more about each other and themselves. Except instead of Green Day playing in the background, their only soundtrack is their moans while they learn each other’s bodies. 

So they have sex, alright? Zayn doesn’t have to defend himself to his own mind. It isn’t, well, really anything, they’re still only just friends. But that doesn’t mean Zayn has to ignore how hot Louis is. Especially when he’s on top of him. Louis is literally the definition of everything Zayn wants to be when he’s older: confident, sexy, unabashed. The whole package.

Zayn lies back down next to Louis, lost in his thoughts after that _wicked_ orgasm. Fuck, he is so prepared for university boys now, thanks to his best friend.

“I’m leaving two weeks after the New Year,” Louis’ voice cuts through the silence. 

Zayn tries to sigh inaudibly, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder. Right. “You decided already?”

“Yep, Edinburgh for Theatre and Education.”

Zayn sits up. _This can’t be happening_ , “Edinburgh? But that’s four hours away!”

Zayn is oblivious to Louis’ bittersweet smile as he runs his fingers through Zayn hair, “Yep. Promise you won’t forget about me, yeah?”

“Of course not.” Zayn can’t imagine not having Louis in his life, “I mean, I could visit, right? During long weekends,” that probably sounded too forward, “unless that feels too intrusive for you and Andy…”

Louis sighs into the silence, “There isn’t really an Andy and me anymore. ‘E broke it off, saying we both should’ve known that this was only practice for the real thing.”

What a little shit. Zayn gulps, Andy and Louis had been together for two years and before that Louis had always been in a relationship during their years being friends. Zayn did not prepare for this.

“I’m finally 18 and I already know I’m going to end up alone,” Louis lets out a self-deprecating laugh, “I‘ll probably end up an old maid with cats by the time I’m twenty-five.”

Zayn digs his nails into his palms. He can do this. What could a relationship really do to their friendship? Or maybe...

“Um, what if I help you _not_ become an old maid?” 

What the fuck does _that_ mean, his mind screams at him.

Louis turns his body, making Zayn remember that they’re both naked under his comic book bed sheets. 

“I watched this movie on Netflix, right? It’s called _10 Year Plan_ where these two best friends decided to make a pact to marry each other if they’re both single in ten years -”

“That sounds idiotic. Why the fuck would you watch that cheesy shit?” Louis looks understandably dubious. Zayn can admit he loves trash talking Titanic whenever he can. 

“It was in the LGBT section of Netflix.” Zayn shrugs as Louis nods in acquiescence in response. 

“So what are you trying to say, Z?” Louis says, as he pulls Zayn back down and entwines their legs together for another cuddle.

Zayn can feel his ears turn red, “I mean, um, what if we made a pact like that? Like, if we’re both single by the time you’re twenty-five, we could, um, get married?”

He sees some kind of emotion flash in Louis’ eyes that he doesn’t recognize before the older boy puts on a smile, “I actually think that would be kind of fun. It’s also like a huge fuck you to people who think gay marriage will never be legal by then, right?”

Zayn gives the other boy a cheesy smile. It’s basically guaranteed that he and Louis will be best friends forever, or at least for the next seven years. And if they’re destined to be together, Zayn figures that it wouldn’t hurt for him to grow up a little bit more; to become someone that Louis could see himself wanting to marry.

\----- Seven Years Later ------

Packing up his stuff lying around in his now ex-boyfriend’s flat isn’t as hard as Zayn thought it would be. Yes, the breakup itself had been pretty harsh, he and Shahid had both gone into the relationship knowing that none of it was going to be that serious. They had never talked about moving in together, even in the face of the cost of living in San Francisco.

“I’m heading out,” he mumbles probably for the last time, into the silent flat, “I guess I’ll see you when I see you then.”

“ _You’re an idiot if you actually thought that this could have gone anywhere,_ ” his words echo back to him, “ _You were just a game, you knew that this had an expiration date._ ”

Shahid had cruelly laughed, “ _No, your real prize has blue eyes, doesn’t he? Have fun with your caged little pet, Z._ ”

Zayn still didn’t understand what he had meant with that remark. It’s not like he’s forcing Louis to live with him. Pacts are what the two are best at and they have always followed through on them. Well, mostly.

But without their Bus 1 pact, they would never have moved all the way from Yorkshire to San Francisco. Sure, the original plan was to road trip across the country, from JFK to the gayest city on Earth, in their own tricked-out bus. 

Louis had even ordered Zayn around to draft ideas for their van. Their final idea of a Scooby Doo van had never come to fruition, but the end goal had been the same and two one-way plane tickets were way cheaper than a custom-made van, plus more gas than they would have never imagined using on the little island they had called their home for most of their lives.

Zayn’s heart jumps at the thought of living with his best friend under a steel-tight contract, doing what they love until their hair goes grey. He’s so lucky that it’s possible for him and his roommate to have a guaranteed future that could actually last to death do us part.

\----------------

Louis absolutely hates his life. He hates the invention of hills. He hates bills. And, most of all, he hates his birthday.

He used to love his birthday. His mother had always made a point to celebrate his birthday on Christmas Eve as it’s own little event, even going as far as to wrap his presents only in birthday wrapping paper. 

But now his birthday just holds painful memories and guilt that he can’t go back home because of his stingy boss.

If he could go into a time machine, he’d go back seven years and shake his younger self. Why had he thought to make a marriage pact at the age of 18 made sense? He had barely met anyone outside of his hometown and had already decided that there was no one else for him.

Zayn had been the person that made Louis realize he was gay, or at least decide to come out. What the fuck had he been thinking? Louis almost missed the naiveté of his teenage years.

For some reason, his 18-year-old self had thought it would have been plausible for him to have a chance with his best friend if only the other boy would fall in love with him. He hadn’t been counting on Zayn’s puberty hitting like a jet plane and putting the nerdy boy way out of his league. 

It also didn’t help when he realized a couple years later that Zayn definitely did feel affection towards him, just in a way that makes him feel uncomfortable. He’s pretty sure your partner shouldn’t try to copy you or get your approval on everything. It would be like dating a guy who was convinced he was your little brother. Louis could understand when Zayn did it at 17, but at 23? No. 

Yeah, he had definitely not foreseen this as his future. 

With perfect timing, Louis trips over some faulty pavement at that thought. _This is my life I guess_ , he thinks. Hey, you know what, he’s perfectly fine with it all ending here, at least this way he doesn’t have to pay his taxes for this year.

Louis stays on his hands and knees, wincing at the bits of pavement ingrained in his palms that caught his fall. He just needs a breather or his knees will make that popping sound that he definitely needs to check out. Fuck, he’s so old.

A muffled bark interrupts his mental rant and seeing its source makes Louis fall back on his butt. Once he lifts his head, he notices two things. First is that the pavement that he’s fallen on top of is painted in vivid rainbow lines, matching the bright rainbow flag on the walls covering the building. Second, just inches away, through a sheen of slobbery glass, is the cutest puppy Louis has ever seen. 

Ignoring the burning in his palms, Louis covers his mouth cooing at the bouncing pug. The pug’s tongue wags out of her mouth, staring straight at Louis. It almost looks like she’s smiling directly at him. 

Louis reaches out to touch the glass, now only inches away from the puppy, totally entranced. Maybe it’s because of the uncomfortable cold or the terrible year he’s been having or the safe feeling he gets from seeing his flag reflecting in the window, but the next thing he knows, Louis starts tearing up.

Quickly, he looks side to side to make sure no one is watching him on the street. He works six days a week, he deserves to cry at a puppy. Before he knows it, he starts telling the puppy about everything. It feels like the weight on his shoulders lifts slowly as he tells an equally enraptured pug what his douche coworker did today, never noticing the eyes of someone watching him.

After that, the month of December begins and it won’t slow down.

Louis is grateful, however, for the Pug of Fortune’s presence without which he would have disintegrated from the stress building up around him. 

He had finally gotten the courage to go inside the blessedly warm store last week to find that customers were allowed to play with the pets, “as long as their auras are compatible”. 

Louis still isn’t sure what kind of store this is, but he’s allowed to drink hot chocolate with a sweet pup in his lap, so who is he to complain?

The pug, he still refuses to name her in his head in case he gets attached, places her chin on his shoulder as he sighs into his mug. He would worry about her neck, but it seems like she doesn’t have one. She’s an enigma, with a tongue that flops out, almost half the size of her head, yet still looking like the cutest thing in the entire world. Just feeling the weight of her in his lap and her paws scrabbling at his chest brings a sort of peace to his tension-riddled, crumbling body. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closing in about ten minutes,” one of the workers says apologetically, Liam his name tag reads, as he takes Louis’ empty cup. “Have you thought about adopting Pugzilla there?”

Louis stops, “Who?”

The man stares at him, pointing at the sign attached to the cage Louis is sitting against, “Pugzilla? The owner likes to name all the animals based on the breed in his usual style.”

Louis guesses that he’s referring to the name of the shop, Pups the Word. From what he’s surmised, but not understood, Pugzilla lives in a rainbow dog cafe-slash-bookstore. 

He takes a glance at one of the other cages and sees that one of the poodles up for adoption is named _Puddle_. There’s a subtitle saying “Don’t step on that poodle” with some clip-art attached to it. He doesn’t know what’s in the water here in California, but he’s not playing these games.

Louis knows logically that he should have gone home hours ago. He’s been squatting at this store so often he might as well just pay rent. Maybe it would be a good investment to adopt Pugzilla, at least to give her a better name. 

He shakes himself. He doesn’t have the time or money to adopt a pet right now, let alone a puppy. Plus, he thinks Lottie told him that pugs need to get their wrinkles cleaned once a week or something. How the fuck was he supposed to do that on top of going to work and avoiding the thought of cleaning after himself?

Getting her would be the perfect birthday gift for himself though. And what if someone adopted her as a Christmas present for an ungrateful brat? Plus the responsibility could count as a New Year's’ resolution as well.

Decisions, decisions.

Louis is definitely not stalling until the moment he knows Zayn usually goes to sleep for his AM shift. But if he was, it was a genius move on his part to suggest that they write their work schedules on the calendar in the kitchen.

He taps his fingers against his chin. He’ll make a decision once he finds a good name for his girl.

Louis comes home around midnight. He hopes Zayn actually went to bed early like he asked him to, not wanting to get bothered the day before his birthday with knowing glances, positive it would put him in a shitty mood to go to bed in.

“You’re a hard guy to find, Tomlinson,” a voice greets him as he turns on the kitchen light, making him shriek yet it doesn’t stop the ominous speech from his roommate, “but I had to make sure I’m the first person who tells you happy birthday.” Fuck. “It’s a big day, after all.”

There’s a bright blue cake on the counter lit with two candles that read 25. The border is lined with light blue pearls, something he would never have gotten himself. Since when did Zayn forget who his best friend was? There’s a matching jewellery box lying next to the dessert. Louis’ mouth is dry, the scene before him feels like a scene out of a horror movie and he has a horrible feeling that he knows what’s inside. 

“It’s been seven years since the conversation that set our friendship into a different direction,” Zayn begins, his eyes glowing into Louis’. “So for your birthday this year, I only got you one present. We’ve been friends for over ten years, and I feel like we know more about each other than anyone else does, maybe even including our families. I don’t think we need to set the date all in a rush, but it would be nice if we could announce it to at least our families soon. I’m sure they’ll all understand, I mean it’s not like this would be a huge surprise to any of them, with how close we are.” He smiles, stepping closer to Louis. With the lighting and the feeling of the walls closing in on him, it feels almost like a horror movie to the birthday boy.

“Zayn,” he’s choked up. The other boy perks up, reaching for the box on the table, “Fuck. No.”

“What.” It’s like all the strings holding Zayn up collapse, “Was it too much? I just wanted it to be special,” Zayn’s voice rises in a whine, “I mean, you haven’t dated anyone in such a long time, why couldn’t I make it special?”

“Zayn,” Louis inhales, powering through his anxiety, “I want to move out. No. I need to move out.” The other boy looks frozen. “Can’t you see how poisonous this is? The way we never talk about the things that are really going on?”

“What do you mean? Nothing else is going on,” a look of understanding passes over Zayn’s face. “Shahid and I are totally over now, Lou, I know that you never really liked him anyway -”

“Z, I just can’t anymore, okay? You need to give me time to get over you. Because you don’t understand, you _won’t_ understand the things you do to me. This pact has always been beyond stupid, it was a desperate wish by my eighteen-year-old self that one day you would fall in love with me -”

“But I have! I changed and now I’m someone you can fall in love with.” Zayn gestures at himself, pulling at his sleeves. To Louis, it just looked like he’s pointing to something as superficial as his looks.

The older boy chokes on a laugh, “I was already in love with you over seven years ago. But you still can’t get your head out of your ass to realize that to love someone doesn’t mean you put them on a pedestal. All you’ve ever done is hero-worship me, and for seven years I’ve been waiting for you to stop being so fucking blind, and to finally see who I am. But I guess all that you’re capable of is being a follower.”

Louis runs into their shared bedroom and starts shoving clothes and pictures into a suitcase, Zayn hot on his heels, “What the hell, Louis, you can’t fucking tell me that I can’t _see_ you. You’re not in my fucking mind.”

He turns at his younger friend, “I can’t believe that your head is that fuckin’ far up your ass. If you really ‘loved’ me, you wouldn’t be projecting what you want me to be over who I really am and what I really like.” At the sound of the other boy’s protests, Louis continues, “How could you not have seen how upset I was about this pact before tonight? What excuses did you make in your mind for why I was avoiding you? Did you _really_ believe it when I kept telling you that I was so tired and that’s why I couldn’t talk before or after my shifts?”

Louis can’t stay another second here in the same space as his best friend, “I need to get out, at least for a while,” he continues, ignoring Zayn, “James owes me a favour, but when I come back I want you to have moved out. The lease is in my name and I just need space, Z. We should have cut the umbilical cord way before this.”

As he starts rolling the luggage bag that’s almost as tall as he is, Louis feels like a different person. He never thought he would have been able to say all of that to Zayn out loud. He doesn’t know who this new twenty-five-year-old Louis is, but he’s excited to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn wakes up the next morning with a massive headache, his eyes stinging, and a worse for wear jewelry box clutched in his right hand. Guess he won’t be able to return it. He distantly remembers the conversation from last night with his mum after Louis had stormed out.

(“What?” Zayn squawks in response to his mum’s nonchalant reaction to his story. 

The fuck, he had definitely not seen Louis’ outburst coming, but his mum didn’t even sound outwardly surprised. Zayn does have to admit that he’s guilty of the mental gymnastics that Louis accused him of, which he’s still doing now towards the short speech his mum gave him, “Mum. I don’t understand; why didn’t you say something if you thought _whatever this is_ was going on?”

“My stubborn boy,” his mum sighs. It’s in the middle of the night in Bradford, her voice sounds distantly sad. It doesn’t sound like she’s going to give him a straight answer.)

He rolls out of bed slowly in order to appease his hangover. The turning motion makes him feel like his brain goop is getting pulled out of his head. The flat has never seemed so still which helps his headache some.

(“Wait, how is this my fault?” Zayn asks, “He’s the one who freaked out.”

“Weren’t you just asking what you did to make him act that way, sunshine?” He can practically hear his mum’s raised brow.)

He had spent over a month trying to find the perfect ring that would have looked perfect on one of Louis’ small fingers, desperate for that approval, and now that everything’s been turned on its head, he knows he can’t open that box ever again. He’s waited so long for yesterday, always assuming they were a sure thing, and fuck, it’s like he’s just found out gravity has never been real. How can he survive without a Louis?

Dropping his head and rubbing at his temples, Zayn considers a plan to get Louis to see reason. This could be the one time his mum’s wrong about something. He’s only witnessed life changing disasters like this from the sidelines, usually while it wrecks Louis’ life, like when the other boy had to drop out of uni because of his mum’s debt.

(“You’re going to have to face reality sometime, darling,” his mum says, and Zayn rolls his eyes.

“I’ve got to go,” he murmurs, running his fingers over the liquor Louis left behind in his haste.)

He nods to himself, determined, for now he’ll just focus on finding a new place and then he’ll find a way to get Louis back. He can do this.

\-------------------

He can’t do this.

So far, Zayn has done a handful of interviews with potential roommates, and none of them have felt _right_. Either the price is way too out of reach for his budget, his interviewer is too weird, or the whole complex smells like ass. A delightful highlight had featured a guy who had made three gay jokes in the thirty minutes Zayn had been there with a living room _covered_ in Confederate flags. He could not have run out of there fast enough.

Zayn sighs. Maybe he should just suck it up and live alone. Even though he’s a self-labelled introvert he likes the feeling of someone, who up to this point has always been Louis, being there on the outskirts, in order to feel comfortable in his skin.

He loosens the tie that matches his standard business casual look. He might as well enjoy the rest of his day off before the sun goes down. 

Zayn has been craving some Asian food throughout the morning and soon he finds himself walking towards Chinatown. His mouth waters as he smells Szechuan chicken from a kiosk at the corner, bless his people for never closing shop during the holidays. 

As he chews some of the juicy meat off of the stick in his hand, he admires the glowing lights hanging between some of the buildings. Green and red alternate in the form of bulbs as big as his face. The only thing that would make this day complete would be a mountain of snow. That’s the only thing he really misses while in San Francisco. Who knew he would have ever feel affectionate towards the fickle weather England is known for?

As he wanders between huddles of family members laughing together, he remembers what his mum told him before he signed off, something that he still doesn’t want to accept.

(“You’ve always been such a sweet boy. You remember how quiet you used to be before you and Louis became friends?” The light lull in his mum’s words brings a false sense of security, “After you became thick as thieves, I noticed that you started taking on some of his mannerisms. It was Louis this and Louis that. You started spouting out facts about Louis instead of ones about Legolas.” 

She pauses, “And that was adorable when you were a teenager, love. But you’re twenty-three now and that still hasn’t changed. You never broke out of copying his mannerisms or agreeing with him on everything. Can you even think of anything that you do regularly that isn’t because Louis likes it or does it too?”

Zayn really doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“I love you as who you are, more than life itself. But I would really like to know who _you_ really are instead of trying to clone yourself as other people.”

He lets out a strangled laugh, “Mum -”

“Baby, do you remember what you told me when I asked you why you were so excited to go to Eid al-Adha when you were little? You said you wanted to go because Jawaad liked it, but you couldn’t give a reason on why you liked it other than that _he_ liked it.”

“Are you saying that I don’t have any feelings or opinions that aren’t my own?” Zayn knows he’s coming off as aggressive as he defends himself.

“I think you don’t know what you like or who you really are yet,” his mum answers sadly, “but I think this would be a great chance to really explore that. Just remember that we all love you and will love you no matter what happens.”)

Her cryptic words flash in his mind. She might be right. Either way he can’t project Louis’ thoughts and actions when just the thought of him hurts his head. 

Zayn lifts his head and realizes he has no idea where he is. He must have kept walking past the heart of Chinatown. There are still Christmas decorations leftover on this street as well, but all the buildings are made of red brick or glass instead of the pastel colors Louis had left him. Zayn distantly remembers visiting this side of town once before, it must be the industrial side since he sees hipster makeovers of warehouses everywhere. 

It’s the five pubs he can see on the street just from here that seals his decision to walk into one of the open houses. As soon as he walks into the building’s lobby, he knows he has to live here.

He can see a common area through one of the huge bay windows in the office that overlooks the ocean, surrounded by huge rocks. Zayn can see himself sketching in one of those chairs, laughing while Louis tells a joke with his whole body beside him. The next thing he knows, he’s signed a lease all set to move in two weeks time into his very first studio apartment. 

Maybe Louis was right that they need a break in their living conditions. Moving back in together in a year could really bring more perspective into their relationship, but for now, Zayn’s kind of excited to live alone for the first time. 

Anything to get his mind off the ideas his mum planted in his brain.

\-------------------

Zayn knew a lot about to keep their home and utilities in check, apparently. At the time it had made sense to put all the accounts under Zayn’s name. But after their friendship break-up, Louis’ ex-best friend had cancelled their gas, electricity, _and_ internet.

So it makes a lot of sense that the flat turned into a disaster zone as soon as he moved out, Louis reasons. 

He’s made a little progress over the last two weeks - he’s no longer eating all his meals in bed, he’d like to point out - but none of that has paused the avalanche of dread from spilling whenever he enters his messy kitchen.

_You’re acting like a brat, Louis_ , he berates himself.

Louis remembers how Zayn had chosen the flat, searching the entire city for a place that looked just like the vision board they had made in their school days, finally finding their salmon-coloured house fitting in an equally colourful neighbourhood.

The cupboards are all empty, all of their usual occupants belong to Zayn, inviting thoughts of a DIY project Louis is too tired to consider seriously. There’s spoiled milk in aluminium foil bowls, ripped up notes taken from an outdated calendar, and a couple of lone Froot Loops scattered on the counters. The pantry next to the fridge is filled to the brim with cereal boxes, empty and full, his number one binge food.

Summoning his inner strength, Louis walks over and picks up one of his aluminium makeshift plates. 

Somehow. He’ll get through this.

After spending half of his off-day cleaning his apartment, he decides to reward himself by going to his favourite spot in the city for a warm drink. Louis enters the hybrid pet shop he’s grown so accustomed to, already feeling content, in a gust of wind.

At the sight of the distinctly different walls of the store, one wall covered in cages, another with overstuffed bookshelves, and the rest filled with barista equipment he wonders, once again, the odds of this unusual shop ever being able to survive in any other city. 

There’s a tall unfamiliar man behind the counter. His name tag reads Harry Styles, although it’s written in purple glitter so who knows whether it’s accurate, and he’s…

Louis’ sure it’s not a face he would ever forget. His curly hair is shoulder-length, his lips naturally pink, topped with sparkling green eyes. He’s definitely younger than Louis. And judging from the look in his eyes, the man has definitely noticed his wandering eyes, fuck.

_Flirting mechanism malfunctioning._

“Whoa, you’ve got huge pupils.”

_Error! Error!_

“They’re really pretty eyes, I mean,” Louis can feel himself sweaty, as the aforementioned body parts stare at him, “Good job.”

Harry grins widely, “Thanks, I grew them myself!” He leans in conspiratorially, “Although I think that the true hero here is my mom.”

Louis laughs weakly, cursing himself. 

The fact that this guy is so nice almost makes the moment worse. He’s always had a history of falling for guys who can never see him in a romantic light because of their personalities, it seems.

“I’m Louis.”

He might as well accept his fate.

After running away to an intersection of bookshelves far away from the counter, Louis regroups to lick his wounds. 

Pupils? Really?

He can almost remember the days when he was cool and popular and could give good handies to three guys backstage without congratulating anyone on their eyes. He might as well cut his losses and just accept his fate of being single and lonely forever. 

Or.

Louis slowly turns towards the wall covered in cages, one of which contains his best friend at the moment.

\-------------------

Louis sleeps the best he ever has that year so far that night. He cuddles with a wiggly ball of fur, that matches his personal wiggles that he makes as he nuzzles further into his thick pillow. There’s a wet tongue that greets him during the points in the night, where he wakes for just a few seconds, curing his regular worried tossing and turning. Louis wakes up refreshed, and it’s close to one in the afternoon before the animal becomes restless.

“I should’ve gotten you a month ago, wouldn’t have spiralled so much without you, Pep,” he scrunches his face and resigns himself to the bath his gal has decided to give him, “Although I’m pretty sure that you’re going to be as messy as me, ‘cause you’re just like your papa, aren’t you?”

It’s not like he’s filling the silence in order to fill another void.

It had been hard to think of another name that wouldn’t leave her too confused from being formerly called Pugzilla. Seriously, Louis has to meet this owner to give them a piece of his mind. Who names their merchandise something _that_ cheesy?

It was almost like she knew what he had been doing and gave him the best solution in the worst avenue possible. He had freaked out when he had gone into the kitchen just in time to see her finish his entire box of knockoff thin mints.

He had spent the next hour on the phone with Lottie, hysterically rocking the pleased as punch and newly christened Peppermint, while dramatically waiting for her death. Turns out she’s one of the only dogs immune to eating her weight in chocolate mint cookies. 

Even as he scolded the puppy happily licking up his tears, he knew that throughout the freak-out, he was feeling lighter than the moments before he met her. He had something to live for and protect again, except this time he knew Pep was also taking care of him, and not just the other way around.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks later and Louis is on the pavement, feeling his nose run from the cold with his phone in his hand. 

_Louis: i can t do this without you. please -_

He wishes he could have his friend back. But he knows he’s wishing more for a time period than a person. Louis knows that if he sent a message to Zayn it would only result in (hurtful) silence or apathetic words, and he doesn’t know what would be worse.

Louis knows it’s partly his fault that they haven’t talked in months, although it was more along the lines of himself ending a slowly-dying relationship that was already coming to a close because of things both of them had done.

A furry little body launches itself into his lap, pushing the hands holding his phone up, in order to wiggle closer, and placing her head on his chest.

Louis jolts, his despair of thinking himself into circles forgotten by the cold nose poking through his shirt. He feels bad that he forgot about Pep in the middle of her walk, but getting a harsh reminder that he has no idea of what he’s doing distracted him from everything.

Shit.

Louis groans, knowing that it’s his fault that he got fired. It’s not like he was ever at his best behaviour at the ‘Bucks. 

Pep helpfully starts licking his face. She starts whining at the lack of movement on his part.

Louis had somehow managed to set fire to one of the coffee machines. He had assumed that the old thing could handle a little caramel mixed in with the beans, but now he’s beginning to realize that he should really just stop trying to invent things. 

Long story short, the world hadn’t been ready for Tommo’s Caramel Drip, which just isn’t fair to everyone else. It had worked when Louis did it to Zayn’s fancy espresso machine, and it was just Starbuck’s fault that they used such cheap material. 

He’d been dismissed that same day with his last paycheck, with the knowledge that it would be impossible to find another job so soon before rent’s due again.

_Louis: i lost my job. It wasn t my fault. I m fine though._

“What am I doing,” Louis sighs to himself, staring at the sky above him blankly.

Pep whines, jumping up to lick his face as if to say _I’m here! It’s okay!_ Casting aside his worries for a second, Louis strokes Pep’s flouncy ears. Pep bounces at the pets, her tongue lolling out, her small body shaking in excitement at Louis’ attention.

Louis gives her a tight-lipped smile, feeling something loosen in his chest.

“Louis!” A deep voice chides, “why are you on the ground?”

The boy looks up to see Harry towering over him on the ground. The two had gotten closer over the past month or so. The taller boy had managed to stick around through the hours that Louis entertained himself by throwing marshmallows at his servers, most specifically Liam.

Whenever Louis felt lonely, which was all the time these days, he would stay past. The two would talk about their families and how much they missed them. Harry’s parents still lived in Vermont, where he also went to school, and his sister’s recent decision to move back Northeast from Los Angeles had made him feel more homesick than ever.

He’d explained to Louis his decision, or lack of thinking, to drop everything to move all the way out to San Francisco with his college roommate, Liam. The two had studied music together, but Liam had believed in Harry enough to help him build his hybrid cafe-pet store because of a premonition, giving Liam time to build up his music career.

Louis had almost pissed himself laughing when Harry had finally revealed that the inspiration to the shop had been a series of dreams he had during finals week.

(“All I wanted was to just pet a fluffy rabbit while drinking gallons of coffee, and now I can do both of those whenever I want!”)

When they had run out of things to talk about, Louis had told him all about what had happened with Zayn and him. Harry had watched him enraptured, commenting that he’d understand how someone could be so blinded by how incredible Louis is, succeeding in making Louis blush.

Though he’d describe himself as being in love with the same person for over ten years, he’d never felt so electrified by being in someone’s presence before. He had even somehow found the boy’s pun-intended tattoos cute. And that included a big-ass butterfly conveniently placed right on the boy’s stomach.

\--------------------

“So,” Harry pours the Yorkshire tea that had mysteriously started appearing in the shop once Louis let it slip that it was his favourite, “what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” 

“No one should look that sad with a puppy on their lap,” Harry sticks his pinky up as he pours the tea into a mug shaped like a pug, goading Louis on. “Come on, tell papa Styles what’s got you down.”

“I’m never coming into this establishment ever again,” Louis groans, glaring up at Harry. He sighs at the dimples Harry shoots back. What a dork. “It’s nothing. I just, I lost my job, _which wasn’t my fault_ , and now I don’t know how I’m going to find a job quickly.”

“Oh,” Harry pauses, pulling at his lip, “Well that’s easy, really. We just had a barista quit a few days ago, and since you already have experience…”

The older boy has to stop from pinching himself, “Please tell me you’re not joking! Fuck, this is amazing! You’re amazing -”

Harry flicks a hand as he cleans off the counter, “It’s no trouble. I’m just using you for your accent anyway.” He looks up and winks at Louis, looking so comfortable teasing him that Louis can’t help the words that burst from his mouth.

“Go out with me.”

\--------------------

“I swear you’re killing me,” Louis groans as Harry throws yet another sweater out of the closet he’s stuck himself in. This time it’s a lilac sweater with fashionable shoulder pads and a see-through body. “If you don’t come out in the next ten minutes, I’m going to eat without you!”

“Aha!” The wild movement coming from the closet pauses, “oh wait, nevermind.”

Louis groans again, louder this time.

“This has to be perfect! When we talk about our first date to our grandchildren, they’re going to want to see our Instagram stories.”

Louis can’t help but roll his eyes at that, even though it makes him smile. A comment like that from anyone else would have made him go running for the hills. But for some reason the thought of settling down with Harry, even before their official first date, makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Louis checks the time, “Haz, didn’t you say our reservation was at 7?”

“Yeah?” 

The older boy can hear zippers in the background as he checks the time, “Well it’s 6:45 -”

“What?!” 

A large tan cowboy hat emerges from the closet, the tip scratching lightly on the low ceiling. Attached to the hat stands Harry with his hands on his hips, looking slightly like a worried soccer mom. If that mom was also comfortable with flashing cleavage.

Louis’ mouth gapes at the sight of Harry’s bird tattoos framing a see-through patterned salmon shirt. He doesn’t know where to look, whether it’s Harry’s curls cascading freely to his shoulders or the skinny jeans paired with brown cowboy boots fitted with _actual spurs_.

“Harry _what the fuck_ ,” he chokes out to the oblivious man.

“Come on, Lou! If we run we can definitely get there in time.” He pauses, looking at the shorter man, sounding affronted, “What are you wearing?”

\--------------------

“This is ridiculous,” Louis says, overwhelmed at the mood lighting of the restaurant, ready to down as many drinks as he can tonight. He never knew that Harry had so many tattoos, but the sight of them paired with a see-through shirt _and_ a cowboy hat seems to fulfil a want he never knew he thirsted for.

The mere thought of potentially peeling his date’s clothes off at the end of the night makes him take a long chug of the Coke in front of him, wishing that he had ordered something stronger. He had been overwhelmed when Harry had gone tongue first into his Cactus drink, so he’d gone with the first thing he saw. 

Which is how they had ended up here, at the Cowboy Fondue, as Louis manages to maintain eye contact with the Clint Eastwood playing in different movies on every monitor decorating the walls while Harry sips his drink, looking he wants to devour him instead. It’s suitable to say it’s definitely not the Coke that’s making Louis tingly. 

It takes a moment for the two to register that there’s another body at their table, namely their water who looks absolutely modern compared to Harry’s getup. Louis tries not to look embarrassed at the sexual energy resonating at the table, but it’s hard. 

He notices the bandanas serving as their napkins for the theme and ties his blue one around his neck so Harry doesn’t look like such a sore thumb at their table.

“Howdy, partner! We’ll have an Outlaw with some spicy sausage, please,” Harry practically clicks his spurs as he tips his hat at the waiter. Louis really shouldn’t be surprised since the man owns a rainbow themed pet cafe. “And for dessert later we’d like the Happy Trails with strawberries and marshmallows, thanks. And I just love the mood lighting here as well.” 

“I’ve never been so turned off before in my life, Harry, you’re ridiculous,” Louis lies, although his attempt to sound authentic completely fails due to the fond smile on his face because 1. he’s so turned on, 2. he’s so full of fizz he’s practically buzzing, and 3. Harry’s manages to look even cuter as he ties his own green bandana-napkin around his napkin to match Louis, his breath catching at the smile Harry sends him.

It takes all his self-restraint to not jump the other boy at the table, and his chest feels warm as Harry tries, and fails, to send him a wink. 

Louis forces a grimace onto his face. “Well, are you quite finished with your makeover, love?” he quips as a waiter comes up to magically top his soda.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Harry pauses, finger-gunning at Louis, “If you wear cowboy clothes, are you ranch dressing?” He looks proud of himself, almost like he didn’t just commit a crime in the form of a bad pun. 

Louis stares, because Harry punctuates his joke by taking another sip of his drink, tongue-first, and the thought of shaming the boy flies out of his mind. His green eyes shine, this boy knows _exactly_ what he’s doing, again the thought of lily-pads and emeralds floats in his mind, and Louis is so absorbed that it takes him a moment to process that his hands are in the way of the fondue pot their waiter is trying to place on their table.

The smell of the aged cheddar-beer mixture, with added tomatoes, jalapenos, garlic, and cilantro makes his mouth absolutely water. He immediately takes a huge rip of the French bread and dips in without a fork, letting out a loud moan as the tomato bursts on his tongue. He’s ignorant to the boy frozen across him as he lunges for the sausage platter and dips that into the fondue as well.

“Oh my god,” Louis closes his eyes and groans, licking the hot cheese off of his fingers, “this is amazing.”

“Um,” there’s bread hanging loosely from Harry’s fingers as his eyes bulge out at Louis, his mouth gaping.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I’m pigging out, aren’t I?” Louis lets out a breathy laugh, embarrassed out of his mind. One thing he always misses whenever he visits England is good queso, and until he met Harry it was really one of the last things tying him to this part of the United States. Hell, in Bradford salsa tastes basically like pasta sauce, and not even the good kind.

“No!” Harry responds a tad late, in a high-pitched voice, “No, no, no, please, I just like seeing you happy. Please, keep eating. Like that.”

“Are you sure?” Louis looks around nervously, although his fingers are back in his mouth after dipping another piece of bread into the fondue. The combination of the crunchy outside and the soaked soft insides covered with cheese could give him wet dreams for weeks.

The rest of the meal goes by with appreciative moans on Louis end while Harry slowly dips food in, his eyes following Louis’ every movement like a slowly buffering, gay computer.

By the time dessert comes around, Louis is positively stuffed but all that leaves his mind when the smell of dark chocolate and cayenne peppers fill his nose. His mind goes offline as Harry dips a strawberry into the chocolate and then lifts the gooey mess up to Louis' lips.

It feels like they’re the only two in the world as Louis takes a bite, his eyes fluttering as the juice erupts on his tongue. Harry begins to withdraw his hand, but Louis takes hold of his wrist, as he licks and sucks on the other boy’s fingers. A whine leaves Harry, his eyes never leaving Louis’ mouth, as the two blush back into reality.

“Holy shit,” Harry’s eyes are blown out, the green completely gone.

Louis blushes deeper, he’s never felt like this with anyone before, but all he wants is for Harry to rip his clothes off and take him right here.

“Could we take this home? I really want to ride a cowboy right now,” Louis can’t wipe the mischievous smile from his face as Harry breathes out another curse before throwing a hundred bill on the table before dragging him out the door.

\--------------------

Louis had underestimated how turned on Harry could get from a pun. Before he could shut the door to their Uber, the other man’s hands were all over him.

Normally Louis’ idea of a first date didn’t end with a hookup but this night had felt different from every other failed date where he would delete the other guy’s number on the way home.

Instead part of Louis wanted to move in with Harry right now and jump forward to domestic mornings and sappy nicknames. All he could think about was Harry’s lips and how he could see himself whispering sweet nothings against them between soft kisses. Along with some other things those lips would look good against. At least he was until Harry stuck his hand straight down Louis’ trousers.

“I can’t wait to rip you out of those jeans, babe,” Harry mumbles, fondling his bulge. Louis exhales shakily hoping their Uber driver isn’t noticing anything going on in the back seat.

“All I could think about was getting my lips all over you, sucking you dry and making you all wet with just my tongue,” Harry chuckles darkly as Louis closes his eyes, visibly shuddering at the imagery, “Yeah I saw you eyeing my tongue, you’re not subtle at all.” 

Louis gasps again as Harry paws at his erection, “I bet you’ve been thinking about my mouth since we met in my cafe, and let me assure you,” Hary leans in even closer, causing the temperature in the car to go up, “I eat everything tongue first.” Harry ends his seduction with a low growl that sends a bubble of precum into Louis’ pants.

“Here,” the Uber driver grunts, glaring at them, as Louis crawls out of the car, sure that the man can see his hard dick straining through his jeans. It doesn’t help when Harry keeps his hand on Louis’ back, deliberately brushing his skin where his shirt rode up.

“Did you really mean what you said in the cab?” Louis questions with a quirked brow as they make it into Harry’s silent flat, during the whole lift ride Harry had made no sudden moves to continue what he started in the car. 

He responds by pushing Louis against his door, “I’m not sure whether you could handle it, babes. You need to tell me you want it.”

Louis stares back at him, slack-jawed. This beautiful boy wants him to beg for his mouth, for his tongue. How did he manage to bag such a perfect lad?

“Please. I need your mouth.” 

“And where do you need it, sweetheart?” Harry towers over him now, his hands planted on either side of Louis’ head on the door. The huskiness of his voice makes Louis shiver, something that does not go unnoticed by the taller boy.

“On my cock. I need your tongue in me.”

“Well now. You just sound like a greedy boy at this point, baby.” Harry’s apathetic tone goes against the actions of his hands which begin to unbutton Louis’ tight jeans, “Fuck, it was like your pants were painted on. I couldn’t stop thinking of his thick ass all through dinner.” The man gives the aforementioned rear a tight squeeze, causing Louis to let out a whine.

Harry’s eyes flash with desire as Louis tugs onto his own hair to ground himself. He knows he must look desperate, writhing on Harry’s door from just a meagre touch.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see what other sounds I can tear out of you after this, lovely.” Harry grinds out before tugging Louis’ jeans down over his commando cock. 

Louis hears a _thunk_ as Harry slides onto his knees before him. He peeks an eye open and lets out another moan at the sight of Harry diving tongue first to lave at the head of his cock.

Harry groans, causing Louis’ legs to shake at the vibrations that rock him to his core, “I never even dreamed you could taste this good.”

He punctuates his thought by taking Louis deep in his mouth, his nose pressed to Louis’ curly pubes. _His nose is so cute_ , Louis thinks to himself as his eyes flutter at the feeling of Harry’s tight, hot mouth.

Harry groans around his cock, causing Louis to let out a high meep. He pulls off for a moment to grab one of Louis’ hands and put it in his curly hair, “Fuck my mouth.”

The younger boy dives right back in at that. Yup, Louis is definitely going to die by Harry’s hand, either due to how cute or hot the other boy is.

After a few thrusts, Louis already knows he’s embarrassingly close. He makes a feeble attempt to warn Harry and pull him off his cock, but Harry holds onto his thighs, sucking even harder until he practically sucks the soul out of him. Louis clenches his hands, pulling a moan out of Harry. The vibrations make his eyes roll in his head as he comes, shooting into Harry’s waiting throat.

Louis’ knees give out as Harry gives his spent cock a few more kitten licks, before picking him up and carrying him to the bedroom.

“Sorry, that was a bit embarrassing,” Louis yawns into the back of his hand once Harry places him on the bed, reverently like he’s something special.

“Nah, babe, it makes me happy that I made you feel that good,” Harry smiles sweetly from above him, “are you still up for more?”

Louis blinks his eyes open to see Harry crawling on top of him with a bottle of lube in his head, “Yeah, but I’m afraid you’ll have to do a lot of the work. Your mouth is so good.” 

He’s so out of it, he touches Harry’s mouth as the other boy begins to circle his hole. 

Louis hums as Harry starts to open him up, “Feels so good, babe.”

“Yeah?” Harry gives a cheeky grin, “you look like a sleepy kitten right now.”

“Oh,” Louis tries to rearrange his face to give a sexy smirk, but it feels like he’s only sticking his tongue out, “sorry, my face isn’t working right now, come back tomorrow.”

“You’re so cute,” Harry chuckles, adding another finger. He twists his fingers touching something that makes Louis light up and clench his toes, “Everything about you is so cute, how do you do that?”

Louis giggles into another moan as Harry pulls away to put on a condom, “I should just quit and become King Louis, prince of cute.”

Harry slicks up his cock, crawling back between Louis’ legs, “Can you be a king and a prince at the same time?”

“I can make a law about it probably - oh my god,” Louis whines, “how can you feel so good? Fuck.”

Louis doesn’t know where he begins and Harry ends, but it doesn’t really matter. Louis’ eyes flutter at the feeling of fullness as Harry presses deeper inside. He can feel the other boy watching him for any bad reactions, but all he feels right now is safeness. 

He blinks his eyes open to see his suspicions were correct, “What are you thinking about?”

“I just feel like a king beside you right now,” Harry replies nonsensically, before pulling back with another long thrust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fondue Cowboy is a real restaurant in San Francisco! Plus all the menu options are real. Who else felt jealous on when Louis was eating all that gooey cheese?


	4. Chapter 4

For the hundredth time that afternoon, Zayn lets out a defeated sigh before thunking his head down at his kitchen counter dramatically. Maybe if he’s loud enough someone will hear and put him out of his misery.

Instead, he flashes back, to that morning, and the scene that had met him. His best friend, the vibrant one that had disappeared behind gloomy clouds for the past few years had reappeared again. All because Zayn had left.

(“What? Is something wrong?” The blue-eyed boy had looked so cute with a lost expression on his face, paired with a chocolate drop of ice cream on his nose.

The man sitting across from Louis had reached out a hand, as if to wipe it away, before leaning down to lick it off of the smaller boy’s nose. 

Zayn had wrinkled his nose, letting out a tiny, “Gross,” before rushing away. He didn’t want to see Louis smile back, charmed in a way he had never been around Zayn’s awkward self.)

But the thing that Zayn couldn’t get his mind off of was the fact that he had never seen that Louis before. Even when they were teenagers, there had been a steeliness in him, something that had let potential bullies know not to mess with him.

No, the Louis he had seen in that ice cream shop had been unguarded, untethered to any self-deprecating worries. 

How the fact that an amphibian-looking white boy had given that feeling of freedom to Louis, unlike Zayn, was beyond him.

“Gross frog boy,” he mutters to himself. He really needs to go outside.

Zayn perks up as he remembers that his mother had promised to send some Pakistani snacks his aunt had brought back on her trip to cheer him up. He grabs a jacket on his way out, glad that he can at least still his mom’s ear off about everything going on. 

Apparently, no one in his family had been surprised by the break-up between the two. And although it stung a bit, he had appreciated the love he was feeling from them. He hadn’t realized how much he had isolated himself in the name of the feeling as if Louis and him were two people against the world.

Zayn signs for his package at the office, too excited to unwrap whatever’s inside to notice somebody walking straight at him. He looks at the large box in his hands, feet gaining speed as he nears to the elevator, as he crashes into another person. 

He watches in slow motion as the man bounces back from colliding with the box, bumping into the wall behind him, before collapsing face first onto the ground like a ragdoll.

By the noise the blond on the ground lets out, he can immediately tell the fallen boy is Irish.

Zayn lifts his eyes guiltily at the tall man laughing next to his fallen friend, “Oh no, Niall! I can’t believe you let that twig pull you in tatters!”

“Are you okay?” He can’t help but wince at the scene he, and the incredibly tall man, are making. Zayn kneels down, relieved to see the boy, Niall apparently, turns his head and open his eyes. He frowns as he notices the fallen boy’s eyes are a bit dazed, “Did I give you a concussion?”

“Uh,” the blond blinks a few more times, “don’t worry mate, I’m fine.”

Zayn helps Niall get up just as the elevator doors slide open, “Are you going in?”

“I, yeah, ‘m on the second floor -”

“You’re kidding! We’re on the same floor!” Zayn smiles wide, excited for the idea of a potential friend. “Stay at mine for a bit, yeah? Just so I’ll know that I didn’t give you a concussion.”

Niall nods slowly, the dazed look not leaving his eyes. 

As Zayn places the box on the table, his earlier angst session forgotten, Niall pipes up, “So what’s in the box?”

“I’m actually not sure,” he turns the kettle on, his ingrained habit of cheering Louis up going on autopilot, “I just know it’s a care package from my mum.”

As he tears open the package, he continues, “I didn’t know there were other foreigners in this complex.”

“Yeah, it was just me for a while. Made me pretty popular, but at least I’m still the only Irish guy! Me mate’s just visiting from my hometown.” Niall starts walking around the room, looking at all the unpacking Zayn still hasn’t brought himself to do.

Zayn finally gets the package open and crows, “Yes! She got it!”

“What is it?” Niall sounds as excited as he is.

“Um, it’s just this candy from Pakistan my aunt brought back. They don’t have it here or in England anywhere. It’s sweet and spicy, and I guess it’s kind of weird.”

“Chili Mili,” Niall reads aloud slowly. 

Zayn cringes. He knows it must be weird to be so excited about candy. He knows Louis used to laugh, good-naturedly of course, whenever he savoured it. It just reminds him of the informal family reunions he had during childhood, like during one of his many cousin’s weddings, where all the kids who dare each other to eat the most of the pepper shaped candies. 

It had gotten to the point that he wasn’t allowed anywhere near them after he puked winning his third Chili Mili competition.

Louis had just never understood. But he was sure the boy never tried to make him feel ashamed of those savoured memories. In any case, the older boy already knew how uncool Zayn was since they were little.

“Can I have one?” 

Surprised, Zayn nods his head. 

Only to watch in dumb-like horror, as Niall takes a sniff while walking to the sink and proceeding to _rinse_ the candy in the sink before popping it into his mouth.

The blond considers, chewing slowly, before raising a thumbs-up with a wide grin on his face, completely unashamed.

A beat passes before Zayn starts cackling, actually having to lean on the counter as he wipes his eyes.

\------------------

Zayn’s new room is much smaller than the one he shared with Louis. He wonders if the other boy ever ended up selling the big bed. It had been the only thing they splurged on when the recent graduate and drop-out moved to San Francisco.

“And that’s why you moved?” Niall asks from beside him, the two half-naked from the weirdly hot weather the city was experiencing in the middle of February. “That’s intense, mate.”

“You’re probably regretting ever becoming friends with me, huh?” Zayn answers. He doesn’t know what prompted him to tell Niall everything, after only knowing him for a short time. “You should run away before you fall in love with me too. Might ruin your life.”

Niall hums, taking one of Zayn’s hands. “And take away the chance of you turning my life into a romantic comedy?” He pauses, “Would… you haven’t been to any of the beaches here yet, right?”

Zayn shrugs, he really doesn’t want to rehash his fear of swimming. 

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?” Zayn lifts his eyes, confused on what he did wrong.

“I don’t know, you act like you’re too cool for everything so you just do nothing.” He’s never seen Niall so frustrated before, although it’s nothing compared to the rants he used to be subjected to.

The blonde boy stands up with a look of determination on his face. And although Zayn’s a little bit scared, he doesn’t hesitate to take the other boy’s hand.

It turns out the beaches around San Francisco suck, to Zayn’s glee and Niall’s chagrin. They aren’t allowed to go too far out from the reef and the water’s freezing, but somehow Niall still hasn’t given up.

“It’s warmer if you curl up in the water!” Niall crows as if he’s found the secret to life, although his lips are slowly turning blue. “Oh come on, take a chance, Z!”

Zayn keeps a smile plastered on his face, it’s stupid that words that bring him back to his school days can leave him spiralling. In those days, he was always seen as the nerdy, boring kid who never did anything because he was scared or not good at it. He never realized how his bulletproof his aloof mask had been before now.

A huge splash of salty water resurfaces Zayn from his thoughts. He moves in retaliation only to be met with two skinny chicken legs, stuck in weird angles, where Niall had previously stood.

In another huge _splash_ , the blond comes back up from his attempt at a handstand. The Irish boy opens his mouth in joy, which results in a loud _snort_ as water pours out of his nose. 

Zayn can’t help the shriek of laughter that bubbles out of him at Niall’s shocked face that the loud sound came out of him.

\------------------

“You seem lonely,” a voice Zayn doesn’t recognize resounds from above him.

The two boys had enjoyed a few more hours taking turns at lounging on the beach and chilling (literally) in the water until Niall had gone berserk after hearing the chimes of an ice cream truck down the road. 

After hearing a quick request from Zayn the other boy had run like his life depended on it, leaving Zayn with a warm feeling in his chest.

“I just can’t imagine why such a pretty young thing like you would be all alone here,” the man continues. Zayn finally turns around to see someone who could only be described as a silver fox. He can’t help but admire the older man’s muscles, even though his tone is a bit creepy.

“Sorry, but I’m with someone,” Zayn stutters, trying not to look too nervous as he looks around for Niall.

The silver fox comes closer but starts at the blonde blur that attaches itself to Zayn’s side, “Oh. Well, my girlfriend and I are always looking for a third.” He subtly winks as he slides a business card into the boy’s hand, “Call me.”

The two still until the older man leaves, “Wow! Creepy!” Niall comments as Zayn starts to devour his requested Spiderman popsicle.

“Yeah, I had to pretend that you were my boyfriend or something,” Zayn chews one of the beloved superhero’s bubblegum eyes and laughs. “I can’t believe he actually bought that we would be on a date together.” He’s oblivious to the frozen expression on Niall’s face, “I really needed this day out though, thanks Ni.”

\------------------

“So what’s this about?” Louis dares to ask, nervously drumming his fingers against his jean-clad thighs, the two in the spacious apartment Harry shares with Liam. There are rainbow banners still celebrating the new year, along with the current holiday’s pink and red, reminding him of the short period Harry and him have been dating. The mere thought of their committed relationship sends a pang of anxiety through Louis’s body, for a while, he’s felt like things have been going too well. Which is why the invitation to go over to Harry’s place after work on Valentine’s day had put nightmare scenarios into his head.

Louis bites his nails as Harry paces the floor in front of him.

“Sometimes someone comes into your life, and you are just blown away,” Harry finally speaks, in his usual roundabout way in which he answers none of Louis’ questions. “I have felt like I’ve been trying to catch my breath for the past month and a half, but at this point, I’m fine with hyperventilating for the rest of my life.”

Louis already knows Harry has asthma but this is better than the break-up talk he was expecting.

“What did you get on a new asthma medication or something, Harry, what are you going on about?” Louis says, and he tries to sound, like, warm or understanding at the very least, but somehow comes out as accusatory and sharp instead because he can’t believe he fucked it up _again_ , it’s like he’s got a curse that prevents any boy from liking him back.

He at least has good taste, since he’s pretty sure Harry still wouldn’t fire him, no matter how awkward things might get. At least he always has Pep, maybe things would have been easier if he was straight or bisexual, there would at least be a bigger dating pool that way.

It’s dim, his boy _really_ likes mood lighting, huh. Or maybe his eyes are just getting clenched for the final blow.

“Lou! Breathe for me, come on, what’s wrong?” Harry interrupts his chaotic thinking, kneeling down as he hesitant puts his hands around Louis without touching him, holding them like all he needs is Louis’ word to cocoon him from his anxious thoughts. Louis stares, realizing that he’s the one hyperventilating, and the reason it’s so dim, as he’s curled into a defensive ball on his boyfriend’s couch. Harry’s eyes are bugged out as he bites his bottom lip, they’re so pink as usual, and Louis is so absorbed in remembering how they tasted when he bit them before licking down the boy’s neck to process what Harry has said.

He rubs the back of his neck, mostly in embarrassment for his _everything_ , and since he’s prolonging the inevitable. It’s his fault, he’s sure, and he would prefer it if Harry would just rip it off like a band-aid, preferably without listening all of Louis’ mistakes since he already knows. 

It doesn’t matter. It’s Louis’ own fault for leaving himself so vulnerable.

“No, nothing, I’m fine. Fuck. Just let me know what was the last straw. I can understand.”

“I knew this was too soon,” Harry runs a hand through his hair, shaking out his roots, “I just, you’ve been talking about how you feel like you’re drowning since you’re paying rent for a two-bedroom place and you can’t find anyone to sublease. So I was just wondering if you wanted to, um, move in? Maybe. With me.”

Louis is frozen in place. 

“See! I’ve scared you away. And then I got so nervous that I forgot to clean up the place,” Harry waves his hands wildly, vaguely pointing at the old decorations, “It’s a pigsty! I’m a mess.”

That earns Harry a look. He’s seen Louis’ house. Louis hasn’t seen his kitchen floor for months and at this point, he’s too scared to clean up to see what’s underneath.

“I even put pink glitter on the key! In polka-dot form, so it looks like Zoey 101 threw up on it. Does England get Nickelodeon?” Harry huffs, looking at the floor, “It doesn’t matter, I can tell by how you're not saying anything that you’re never going to talk to me again.”

And Louis thought _he_ was dramatic, wow. He sees the golden key hanging losing from Harry’s fingers. It glints in the light. He has no idea which Zoey Harry is referencing, but it’s cute. Just like the boy kneeling in front of him. He doesn’t know what emotions are pulsing through him, pure relief overshadows everything else.

Harry looks up at him with sad eyes, weirdly reminding him of Pep’s face whenever he moves his Peppermint Patties to a higher shelf; he realizes belatedly that Harry’s fancy polka-dotted shirt was probably put on just to match the key that had just turned Louis’ world on its head. It’s absolutely maddening how happy this boy makes Louis feel.

“Please say something. Your smile is too wide to be anything but evil,” Harry pleads.

“You’re ridiculous.” Louis doesn’t say that Harry makes him feel like he could rule the world, “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

Louis doesn’t react when his boyfriend sweeps him into his arms, crowing out his happiness into _their_ apartment.

\------------------

The whole day floats by out of focus. Thankfully none of his students realize their teacher is heartbroken, as the whole day is spent dealing with drama since Tyler didn’t get a valentine from Crystal, and yeah, Zayn is absolutely dreading the phone call he’ll be getting from Crystal’s mother later about ‘millenials’ and ‘trigger culture,’ or whatever. Then he has to stop an all-out brawl when Mark makes a snide remark about Darren’s dads.

As the last school bell rings, Zayn curses the day he took a job to teach third-graders. Of course, he had to choose the age range where kids begin to realize what the word ‘gay’ means and get homework where they have to circle what doesn’t belong. 

And then he’s on his bike, the basket in front of him full of spelling quizzes he has to grade, then he opens his door, and he’s stripping out of his shirt and trousers, opening the door to his bedroom, and everything pauses. Resets. 

He slowly steps backwards to see Niall in his kitchen, massaging a naked chicken that is not Zayn’s, and blinks. Niall stares back. 

“Uh, don’t you have your own kitchen?” Zayn knows he’s being rude, but also all he wants is to take a naked nap in his bed with the window open. “How long have you been here? Am I dreaming?” he says, kicking his discarded clothes into his bedroom.

Niall looks too surprised for his own good. His hands are still massaging the naked chicken underneath him, it’s surrounded by bay leaves and chopped carrots, and Zayn pities whoever has to eat it. Niall’s playing something that sounds like country music with a touch of an Irish jig to it in the background. Zayn catches himself wondering if he’s somehow walked into Niall’s apartment accidentally, but the artwork on the walls is definitely his. 

Zayn crosses over to the island and peers closer at the dish Niall’s making. He reckons he should be less surprised; he had given Niall a spare key after all since there’s no one else he’s close to who could help him if he gets locked out.

He realizes belatedly that he’s half-naked, and he shivers a little. Niall nudges a little into his side, and he relaxes into his body heat as he notices the box of chocolates and flowers on the counter. He absently pulls Niall into a badly-needed hug and sighs into the contact. The other boy hums along with the song playing, his voice slightly growly, from the acid-reflux he always complains about, and Zayn wonders for the first time when home turned into a person.

“Thanks for coming home so early, prick,” Niall says, his tone coming out too jovial to be considered as threatening, “The one time I had a plan that was time-sensitive and you had to fuck it up. I haven’t even got the oven off preheat yet. Did you know you have leaves in your cupboard? And you have like three types of pepper, and I couldn’t choose, so I just used salt. But I thought the leaves looked cool so I decorated with them if that’s okay.”

“So you’re only seasoning your chicken with five carrots, fifteen bay leaves, and salt.” Zayn gives the oblivious Niall a dead-eyed look before walking over to his spice rack and picking up some other spices so Niall’s date doesn’t die from bland white meat.

“What’s that? Why do those look like stars?”

Niall watches entranced as Zayn sprinkles some curry powder and other spices onto the chicken, just like how he used to watch his mom when he was little.

“This is going all wrong!” Niall shakes himself out of whatever trance Zayn has put him in and pushes him away from the chicken, before changing his mind, picking up his wine and chocolate, and then walking right out the front door.

Zayn stays frozen wondering if he just fucked up his relationship with Niall, “Shit.”

The doorbell rings and Zayn hesitantly walks over, inching the door open so his neighbours don’t get an eyeful of the only clothes he’s wearing, the Incredibles boxers Louis got him for his birthday last year when the new movie was announced. 

There at the door stands Niall with the orchids in his hands. 

He rubs the back of his neck as he looks up at Zayn nervously, “I started regretting this while waiting for you to open the door. This is super cheesy, right?”

Zayn laughs, he’s never seen the other boy so uncomfortable before, already used to the confident vibes always surrounding him, “Come in, idiot.”

(“You couldn’t even splurge on some fancy truffles, Nialler?” Zayn teased, popping another waxy chocolate into his mouth.

“I’m a cheap boy!”)

Later on in the night, while the two are snuggled up watching reruns of the Wire, Zayn turns to Niall, “Hey, thanks for your surprise. It’s nice knowing that I at least have a great friend who doesn’t mind keeping me company on Valentine’s Day. Thanks for being my Valentine, Ni.”

“Oh,” Niall looks overwhelmed, a small smile growing on his face, “um, well, the pleasure’s all mine, Z.”


	5. Chapter 5

During one of the mornings where both of them miraculously have off, if one ignores the fact that Harry is the owner, the two sit at the ice cream shoppe while Louis vetos every date idea Harry comes up with.

“Babe, I don’t understand why we can’t just get sushi. We live right next to the Pacific ocean!”

Louis doesn’t know if that’s right, but he doesn’t know enough about American geography to contradict his boyfriend. 

“But, baby, you _know_ about that time I got sushi back in England, it’s ruined me forever. Also, who the fuck wants to eat raw meat?”

“Honestly, boo, I think you’re just afraid to try new things. We live in _California_ now, concrete jungle where dreams are made of!” Harry says as he scrolls up and down Yelp with sharp jabs, “What about the beach?”

Louis opens his mouth, preparing to absolutely wreck his boyfriend with his Alicia Keys knowledge when he notices a brunette boy staring directly at him near the entrance, “Am I going crazy or is that guy looking at me like I’m an alien?”

Harry just mumbles at his phone, something about stupid hipster hours of operations.

Louis subconsciously wipes his mouth with his hand and comes up with nothing. The stranger still hasn’t realized that he’s seen him.

“I’m definitely wearing pants today…” 

Louis gives a little wave, finally breaking the boy from the spell he had unconsciously put him under. Unfortunately, it comes across as an invitation as the stranger decides to walk right up to their table.

“Sorry, you just looked really familiar and then I realized I know who you are!” The boy says with a smile, “I’m Zayn’s new friend, he didn’t tell me to spy on you, I just recognized you from his Instagram.”

He doesn’t give Louis a moment to process as he grabs a chair in the next moment and plants himself between the couple. The boy-who-still-hasn’t-introduced-himself takes a bit out of his ice cream, choking on a yelp as a visible shiver runs through him. Louis looks at the wall like there’s a camera there, _how do they always find me_.

“Wait, Niall?” Harry decides to lift his head at the moment, a cute furrow appearing between his eyes that Louis would have kissed away if there hadn’t been an interrupting Irishman in between them. “When did you get here?”

“How do you know him?” Louis asks, he has to keep himself from blurting out questions of how Zayn is.

“Everyone knows Niall.” Harry answers in the least helpful way possible.

The ice cream in his hand is soup by now, which justifies his decision to get something stronger. Louis feels watched, as he goes to throw away what’s left in his cup. He feels like it’s going to be a long night, and not in the way that he’d planned.

\------------------

“But why do you _care_?” Louis asks Niall, his voice climbing higher in frustration, the conversation so far is making him want to tear his hair off. The situation isn’t helped by the fact that it feels like the two boys are ganging up on him, although he knows Harry would never do something with the intention of upsetting him.

“I’m only making a suggestion,” Niall grouses, “Zayn talks about how things could have ended way more different if the two of you had actually managed to talk.”

“About what? The fact that our whole friendship was founded on lies?” Louis fidgets, “Sometimes relationships end badly and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I’m absolutely fine with taking my feelings about the whole matter to the grave.”

Niall raises his eyebrows, “I feel like you just out Irished me with your Catholic guilt there, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t quip back that he doesn’t know the other boy well enough for him to attach him with a nickname, it takes a lot of effort to keep his sass within him.

Harry looks at him with a worried expression on his face. He’d been quiet the whole time Niall explained about the conversations he had with Zayn about the fall out of their friendship. It felt almost like Harry had heard the story already was purely watching for Louis’ reactions. 

“What would be the harm of talking to him though?” Harry murmurs, effectively shutting up Niall’s rant about how alike the two stubborn boys are. 

“There’s just too much bad blood between us, babe.” Louis runs his hand over his boyfriend’s arm, “It would be better for the both of us if we just let things be, and not reawaken old wounds.”

“What, do you’re just gonna pretend that the person you shared your life with for the past ten years never existed?” Niall counters, “The person who made your life worthwhile? The person you counted as your best friend? He’s hurting too, Louis, and this silence is toxic for both of you.”

Louis feels all the strings that had been holding him up for the past several months fall apart at Niall’s words, “How could Zayn forgive me for all I’ve done? All the things I left in the dark that created the crack between us. _I’m_ the reason the person who stuck with me with for the past ten years is gone and hurting because of my silence. It’s probably better for him to cut me off completely, _I_ was the toxic factor in the relationship with all my expectations and dreams of what we could have been. How could I ever ask Zayn to forgive me?”

He doesn’t know when he started crying, as he wipes his tears away with a shaking hand. 

“You know, Zayn has been putting all the blame on himself, just like you. I’m just saying it would be a good idea for both of you to talk it out so both of you can finally ride that emotional rollercoaster so the healing can start.” 

He can tell how much this blonde stranger cares about his ex-best friend, and surprisingly all he can feel right now is relief that Zayn finally found someone who deserves him - if the idiot can actually see what’s right in front of him this time.

“Fine. Name a time and place.”

\------------------

After the most excruciatingly tense week Louis has ever had the displeasure of enduring, the day he said he would meet up with Zayn comes. The only victory he has in his name is that he didn’t force Harry to drag him to the restaurant with his stubbornness. It was a close call, especially when Harry tried to bring up that sweatpants wouldn’t be the best second chance impression to make. For the record, if he could Louis would be wearing sweatpants everywhere, including during work and sex.

Looking back at it now, as the door to the new fusion restaurant Naill “just has to try” looms ever closer, it would have been better to put absolutely no effort in it at all compared to his fancy loafers and hopeful demeanour. Just in case of the very real chance that Zayn actually comes here to spew how much he hates him and felt violated by Louis’ crush hidden throughout the years. 

He hopes that he looks good enough with his quiffed hair and shaved face that Zayn will at least consider rekindling their friendship, at the very least to get the guilt stop welling up every time he thinks of an object that starts with a Z. 

Zayn comes around the corner at the moment looking practically godlike, fully-bearded and content, his smile leaving his eyes crinkled. He keeps his eyes on Niall beside him and opens the door for him without distracting from whatever story the Irish lad is gesticulating about beside him. Louis’ thoughts are confirmed when Niall shoots a lovestruck glance at Zayn’s back.

It takes a lot of self-control not to immediately order an alcoholic drink as the server comes to take their drink orders as soon as the not-couple sits down. 

A few tense, silence-filled minutes pass before the waiter comes back with four glasses of water.

“You look good -” Louis started.

“Thanks for coming -” Zayn speaks at the same time.

They both chuckle awkwardly.

Louis watches in fascination as Zayn reddens and starts to chug his water through the straw, he’d forgotten how adorable the other boy could be when he was oblivious. But for some reason, having Harry beside him didn’t create butterflies in his belly like he used to feel around the other boy.

“Did you want to come here tonight or were you forced by your boy-toy like me?”

Zayn’s ears turn even redder as he sputters, “You were forced to come meet me?”

Harry shoves his elbow into Louis’ side, without looking away from his menu he hisses, “Behave. He’s trying.”

“I know,” Louis whispers back.

“Niall told me that you wanted to start talking again and that was the only reason I came. But if you’re going to be gossipping about me with my replacement, maybe I should just go.”

Louis had been feeling sorry for Zayn until that moment. He understood that the last time they talked he had yelled at the other boy and essentially kicked him out into the street, but the other boy was just constantly thinking about himself. What a selfish prick. 

“This is why I left, you think _everything_ I do is somehow connected to you. I’ve been happier ever since I stopped caring about how you’d react or think of me after every little thing I do!” Louis stands and turns to Harry, “Let’s go, babe, I should have known he wouldn’t apologize anyway.”

“Why should _I_ be the first to apologize? You kicked me out over something you never had the courage to speak of for years!” Zayn stands up as well, causing some of the other patrons to look at their table curiously.

Harry intertwines his fingers with Louis’, grounding him as all his thoughts of his inadequacies that he would never measure up to be loved to the boy he thought he loved as a best friend and a lover come surging back.

“Alright. I am sorry that I never brought up the things that I was upset with you about. I understand now that keeping things bottled up made everything worse when you didn’t even know what I was so upset about, while I had been stewing about those things for years.”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, “I wasn’t forced to come here. I came here because I miss you. I miss having my best friend be just a text away because you’re the person who knows me the most. I love you, bro.”

(“Aww,” Niall squishes his cheeks, his face blotchy with tears as he watches them from his seat, “This is cuter than I thought it would be.”)

“Do you think we can really get past this?” Zayn looks fragile as he looks across the table, “I miss you too bro, but we’ll always have this hovering above our heads.”

“We’re the only people who can decide that, Z.” Louis reaches his free hand out, “so what do you say?”

Zayn hops around the table and ambushes Louis into a hug, burying his head in his shoulder just like he used to do when they were teenagers, “I missed you so much, Lou. I love you too.”

\------------------

Ever since the intervention Niall planned for the two boys, Zayn has felt like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Knowing that the person he used to count as the most important figure in his life doesn’t actually hate his guts (he grew up with Louis, he knows what the boy is capable of) wasn’t anything he ever expected.

Some part of Zayn knows that he would never have gone into that pizzeria if Niall hadn’t been the one who pushed him to go.

Just thinking of the Irish lad causes a dancing, fluttering feeling in his chest that has been harder and harder to ignore. He’s been smiling a lot more and wearing _actual colours_ in his wardrobe which had gotten Louis to start giving him knowing looks.

The two had started hanging out, gradually going places without the two boys that were respectively always at their side, and learning about each other’s new lives. 

Zayn can’t get the last conversation they had out of their mind, and it’s making him see things that he would never have seen without the other boy’s help.

(“I’ve never seen you so whipped, even with me,” Louis had shot him a sly smirk that was just a shadow of how the two had acted before the past tumultuous year, both still not used to being near each other without walking around on eggshells.

Zayn rolled his eyes as he ate the pizza Niall had picked for the both of them, who had been considerate as always to stray away from his regular Hawaiian pizza with spinach and pineapple instead. It was surprisingly salty and sweet in a good way.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Zayn answered with his mouth full, knowing exactly how much the action pisses off Louis.

“Oh, please. You’re eating _pineapple_ on _pizza_. You sure would have committed felonies if I asked you to, but you would have never subjected yourself to that when we were in school if I had asked you to.”)

Is that what love is? Eating pineapple because they like it and you want to know every reason why? 

After their conversation, Louis had gone over to the other side of the table where Harry and Niall had been throwing toppings at each other and making a ruckus with their loud laughing. 

(Zayn will still say that Harry looks like a frog with a goat’s laugh, but he knows enough to not say it within Louis’ distance.)

Niall had spared him a wink and a large grin, while breathlessly asking between loud laughter whether he liked the pie he’d chosen.

Zayn had looked down at his slice of spinach and pineapple pizza and realized that he did like it because Niall had chosen it to fit both of their tastes. 

Zayn knows full well that he’s never been in love before. All he’s learned so far in the past twenty or so years of living was to never put someone on a pedestal like he did to Louis when foolishly believed that that kind of relationship would make both of them happy.

He had taken a friendship that was good as it was and tried to turn it into a romantic one, assuming that they could be one and the same. 

(He’s secretly glad his mum won’t let him forget about him trying to marry his best friend, the blunt reminders will make sure it never happens again).

A part of him had thought that that was the same thing he was doing to his relationship with Niall in his head. But since that night he had started thinking back about the things the two had done together. Their “date” on Valentine’s Day, the way that Niall knew exactly what to do or say to get him out of a bad place at the beach, how the two knew how to fix each other’s mistakes, and most of all the feelings the other boy made him feel whenever they were together.

It’s only been five months since they met, yet it feels like he’s spent a whole lifetime with the other boy. Niall has surprisingly been able to sneak past his introvertive defences. 

Not to mention that he’s apparently talked so much about him that his mum has talked about bringing Niall around to Bradford for Eid al-Adha since it falls during his summer vacation this year.

Zayn dazes out for a second, thinking about introducing Niall to all his cousins, uncles, and aunts, imagining how well the other boy could impress them all with just one earnest comment and a belly laugh. 

He breaks out of his stupor and realizes that he’s smiling like a Disney princess, practically swooning at his desk, while he should actually be making lesson plans.

Welp, he’s fucked.

\------------------

“But how do you know this _isn’t_ unhealthy?” Zayn questions on his phone.

Louis lets out a loud groan on the other side, “Maybe the fact that you’re questioning yourself?” 

Zayn rolls his eyes as he can hear Harry mutter things even though Louis promised he would stop putting him on speaker. Frog-boy was probably lying beside his best friend, those two are always in bed on their days off even this late in the afternoon.

“Okay, here’s a litmus test. How do you feel whenever Niall hangs out with one of his fit, tall, Irish friends?”

“Um,” Zayn doesn’t know what Louis wants him to say, “bored, I guess? They’re always talking about something Irish so I never know what they’re talking about.” 

He tries to block out flashbacks of Niall and Breslin going on about the smell of manure remind them of home for an hour.

“I mean when he’s hanging out with one of them without you. Do you feel jealous or worried about what he’s doing? Like he belongs to you, and you alone?”

“What? No! Of course not.” 

“Well, then it’s not unhealthy, babe.” Sounds of rustling come through the phone, “Now I’m gonna have to let you go because Harry and I are going to have some gravity-defying sex.”

Zayn hurriedly ends the call, already haunted the past two times when Louis had gotten too distracted to disconnect in time. There’s only so much romantic dirty talk he can hear before his head explodes.

He knows what Louis is getting at. Especially because he’s still trying to outgrow his jealous feelings whenever Louis and Harry stare into each other’s eyes for too long. Zayn knows it will take some time, he’d be worried if it happened overnight.

At this point, after many of Louis’ non-subtle hints, Zayn thinks there might be a chance that Niall likes him back. He knows he’s oblivious, again Louis’ hints, but there’s still a part of him that doesn’t know whether he deserves someone as pure and full of sunshine like Niall. 

He’s only now realizing how cruel he was to Louis in the way that he proposed to the other boy. Even if he didn’t understand the other boy’s feelings, offering his hand in marriage was definitely not the best way to gift his best friend after the other boy had had such a shitty year.

Zayn decides to put off talking to Niall about his feelings for another day. It’s not like the other boy was going anywhere, after all.

\------------------

“Hey, where you’re going off to?” Zayn feels a sort-of deja-vu as he watches Niall put on a tie in front of his mirror, “I thought tonight was taco night? I even bought cake mix that we can try not to burn once we get drunk?”

But there’s no reason for Niall to act like he’s planning a date that ends up to be for Zayn when it’s just a regular Tuesday night. 

Zayn checks the calendar. Well, it’s Earth day, but it’s not like any of that is dragging him down enough to warrant a lovely, (friendly and not at all romantic) surprise for him. He tries to wrack his brain if Niall had said something sad recently about the polar ice caps or anything of the sort but comes off short.

“Didn’t we say we only have taco night when we text about it?” Niall’s rushing around now, not even looking at Zayn as he rushes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“But we haven’t texted each other at all for the past months and we still do it!” Probably because they’d been living in each other’s pockets for so long. “When did we make this rule?” Zayn feels like the situation is slipping out of his hands as he tries to think of something he’s done to upset Niall. “What’s so important that you have to miss taco night?”

Niall steps out of the bathroom, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, “Goin’ on a date,” he goes back to spit, “going to that new taco place on 2nd street.”

He doesn’t meet Zayn’s eyes as he gapes at his neighbour’s taco betrayal. It takes a moment before he registers the first part of Niall’s sentence.

“Wait, a date?!” But…

It’s almost like Niall can read his mind, “Yeah, I’ve been seeing how cute and in love Louis and Harry are when we all hang out and I figured that I kinda, I don’t know, want that? It’s stupid to dream of someone who’ll look at me like I’m a fucking national treasure whenever Harry fucking farts, like Louis, but a fella can fucking dream, right?” Niall lets out a self-deprecating laugh as he bends down to tie his shoes.

“But…”

“Listen,” Niall finally makes eye contact with Zayn as he stands up, “I know Louis has probably told you by now that I like you, in more than a friend way, because he just seems like he wants you to get your head out of your arse. And yet you still haven’t even after the multiple dates that you brushed away as hangouts.”

“Oh.” Zayn had always gotten a feeling, but he thought Niall was chill enough to agree with Zayn on another wavelength that they were a _thing_ without having to actually talk about it. “He never told me that.”

“Oh.” It looks like all the chaotic energy surrounding Niall had vanished, leaving him looking like a puppet with cut strings, complete in his white dress shirt.

“I guess I had always...assumed we were just automatically a thing? Kind of like how Louis got Harry?”

He can tell by Niall’s face that that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“You know what, Louis was right. I’m not a fucking consolation prize that you got out of a breakup that you had with your best friend. You need to _tell me_ that you like me and want me in your life. I never even knew you considered us friends until you introduced me as one!”

“What.”

Niall points, “See! You’re so,” he points at the air in front of him, trying to think of a word, “aloof!” Zayn would comment on how cute he is if Niall wasn’t so angry at him, “You should know by now that I’m not the sort of person to stick around for someone who doesn’t show me that they care about me. Don’t have the time.”

He power walks by Zayn, grabbing his jacket off the stand, “Maybe we can have another bro night in a while, but I’m not going to be the person you settle for, I’ve got bigger dreams. I’m just saying maybe we should have a break.”

Niall stops at the entrance and lets out a defeated sigh, “Do you know how humiliating it is to be this in love with you while knowing that I’m just a safe bet for you? Something you would settle for? Do you know how embarrassing it is?” He points at himself, “I mean - I mean look at me! And look at you! It doesn’t even make sense.”

Zayn stills lost for words. How does Niall not understand? 

He shakes his head at Zayn’s silence, smiling ruefully he ushers Zayn out of his apartment, locking the door behind them before a hasty goodbye. Leaving Zayn standing in the hallway with only a cake box mix in his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my beta who suggested the song Zayn sings when I was stuck in a rut. <3

“Hey Niall, I managed to find that blueberry pie you like at the store,” Zayn manages to open the door to his neighbour’s apartment, his haul from Whole Foods weighing him down. 

He’d already decided to not let Niall into the fact that he had to practically snatch it out of the hands of a frazzled soccer mom who already had five other pies in her cart. There are just certain things a bro needs to do in order to get the best snacks for their weekly movie nights. 

Or maybe it would diffuse the tension.

He had gotten a text from Niall saying that he was finally ready for a bro night, which was the first thing he had said to him after their fight the week before.

Zayn puts down the key Niall always leaves under the mat on the table, but as he looks up he almost sends all the bags in his arms careening onto the floor. 

The flat looks completely empty, apart from the furniture in the living room. Shit, did Niall get robbed? The abode is chillingly silent compared to the usual chaos that occurs whenever Zayn usually enters the other boy’s apartment. Thankfully, Niall learned how to properly season chicken during these weekly dinner and movie nights. 

A lined piece of yellow paper catches his eye on the fridge. Zayn practically flies across the studio apartment to read it:

_I know this is short notice (because it is) but I got a call from my mum about a family reunion out in Ireland. Something about one of my uncle’s birthdays making everyone sentimental and it made me realize and there isn’t really anything anchoring me to San Francisco anymore. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in Ireland for or where I’ll be after, but I’m sure that my favorite times while in America was when I was living next to you._

_I didn’t want our last moment in this flat to be so emotionally charged, but oh well. I really hope you have a good life, Zayn. You definitely deserve it. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life for at least a little while. I’ll always remember you._

_Love,  
Niall_

Zayn doesn’t know when he started crying until a tear drops onto the paper below him. How did he manage to push yet another person who had made his life worthwhile out of his life?

But it wasn’t going to happen again. Even if Zayn had to fly to the other side of the world, he was going to show Niall that he would fight for him and fix his mistakes before it was too late.

\------------------

Zayn thinks he knows Niall enough to guess where he’s heading right now, which is why he buys a nonstop ticket to Dublin as soon as he leaves the apartment.

Right after calling his job and telling them he got diagnosed with shingles. He’ll figure that part out later.

“Louis, I need your help.”

\------------------

“I feel like a proud mother hen!” Louis crows from beside him.

The older boy had decided to crawl to the backside with him after Zayn started to panic about their destination. He didn’t know how long it would take him to convince Niall of his feelings or what he would do afterwards. 

Thankfully Harry was happy to drive him to the airport, citing that he would do anything “to promote the goals of love” or something. He still can’t see how complete opposites like the couple beside him could be so in love with each other, but Zayn can’t deny what his eyes are seeing.

“So, are you going to buy him candy or flowers? Get the marshmallow ones, he loves those,” Harry supplies in between Louis’ joyful cheers.

“Get out, Styles! Z’s going to change his world not say sorry like a pathetic fourteen-year-old!”

“Wait, marshmallow candy or flowers?” Zayn can’t keep track of anything as the San Francisco International Airport comes into view.

Harry shakes his curls, “Not that I mind them, they have the fruitiest aroma.”

Absolutely useless the both of them. Also, who says aroma?

The two trail behind him into the airport as Zayn carries only a rolling carry-on and a small backpack on his back.

“Call your mum when you land!” Louis brushes away some stray lint from Zayn’s beard.

He distantly realizes under all his anxiety of being trapped in a tin-can where he can think of every which way this plan can go wrong that his heart isn’t racing at the closeness of Louis.

“I don’t know if that conversation would go well, seeing as I haven’t even told her what I’m doing.”

“Oh don’t worry, I already filled Trisha in,” Louis laughs, “We’re both surprised that you’d suffer through an eleven-hour flight for this boy. Pretty much sums it up, huh?”

“Lou -”

Louis takes Zayn’s face in his hands, his face determined, “Listen up, idiot. Niall is the best thing that’s happened to you in a few years, and there’s no one else that I would be so happy to take my place as your best friend and confidant. But if you fuck this up and prevent me from learning how fucking sunny that Irish lad is,” Louis steps back, his eyes twinkling madly, bringing back images of the loud terror the deviant had been when they were young, “I will sic’ my Peppermint on your face.”

Zayn steps back, realizing how close his back is to the wall. He also vividly remembers the night he had seen Louis’ pug had managed to jump the kitchen counter and eviscerated a whole box of Peppermint Patties. 

“And then,” Louis pauses, “I’ll tell Trisha _exactly_ how her library sparked a fire when we were seniors.” 

He smiles, satisfied with Zayn’s terrified expression, “So now that that’s settled, good luck and don't fuck it up!”

\------------------

Zayn stares out of the bus window, watching as the rain runs down slowly as the driver rolls down the rocky roads leading to Mullingar. He knows that if Louis could see him right now, he would comment on how well he’s rocking his emo aesthetic.

All through the plane ride, he’d felt cold white fear, but as soon as they touched down into Dublin it’s like he can’t be bothered to feel anything. 

What happens if this is all for nothing and he loses Niall forever? Even after only knowing the other man for half a year he can’t imagine not having him just a text away. 

He clicks shuffle on one of the playlists Louis made him as he sits back into his seat, his gaze still somewhere far away. 

Ireland isn’t all that bad. It’s pretty comforting to see everyone driving on the correct side of the road for once. 

He should definitely be practising his speech. He looks down at his Notes app on his phone:

_I think about love every day, and also you. Coincidence??_

Well, he definitely can’t use that as an opener.

He clicks on another one:

_You showed me how to take a breath for myself. Also, I think I love you._

Zayn rolls his eyes. Trash. It would probably work better if he sang a song instead.

Wait.

After spending the last hour of his transport looking for the perfect song, Zayn thinks he’s finally got it. He texts Louis to message Niall about where he is in the most subtle way possible.

The drop-off point turns out to be a pub and a bed & breakfast with the words _Druid’s Chair_ inscribed in white Celtic lettering. Zayn smiles remembering an argument he had had with Niall early in their friendship.

(“But doesn’t it just always feel like you’re inside a Lord of the Rings movie with all the Celtic text and Irish stuff everywhere?”

Niall had just given him a look at how excited he was getting, “You’re a nerd. Also, it was shot in New Zealand.”

“You’re a nerd for knowing that,” Zayn had nudged him with a buttery hand, “Also Tolkien modelled the world after Gaelic epics, so I win!”

“Nerd.”)

Zayn doesn’t fight the smile overtaking his face at the memory. He had been so foolish to assume that Niall would stick around for him while the other boy had been his sunshine through his depressive state for most of the year. He definitely needed to work on his communication.

He sends a text to Louis to start his new resolution: 

_Z: Hey, just wanted to say thank you for helping me, and also I love you._

_L: GAY_

_L: also he said he’s in a pub called the Druid s Chair watching the open mic with some friends_

_L: don t do anything stupid_

_L: love you too_

\------------------

Zayn walks into the pub feeling like a sore thumb. He’s definitely the only person of colour here. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, and that’s the only thing he can concentrate on until he hears a familiar laugh over the current open mic artist.

A sad smile tugs at his lips, remembering all the times that laugh had spurred minute long giggle fests where Zayn’s sides had felt like splitting. Would he be able to hear that laugh ever again after this?

He walks over to the barkeep, hoping that Niall doesn’t catch sight of him until the right moment.

\------------------

Zayn ruffles the hair on the back of his neck in nervousness as the guy before him bows and thanks the crowd. He’d managed to print out the sheet music to the acoustic version of the song with the help of the bar staff. He fingers the piece of paper in his pocket where he wrote a hastily scrawled speech to accompany his choice of song while travelling on the bus.

It’s definitely not his type of song, but he hopes the fact that he’s going beyond his safety zone will also count as a win in Niall’s book.

After explaining to the barkeep what he’s planning to do, along with who he was trying to woo, one of the servers volunteered to play the piano for him in the name of love. Turned out Niall was well-known and -liked in his hometown, which came to no surprise. 

He watches as the man, Bressie, who had accompanied Niall the day he had first met the Irishman, almost knock the other boy with his elbow between guffaws. Zayn gulps. If he doesn’t succeed with this serenade he can imagine it wouldn’t take a lot out of the giant to beat him up outside. 

Just another reason to give him the guts to go through with this. Gone are the days where Zayn would follow other people’s ideas. He is going something only he could have thought of for something that he knows he wants.

“And now! Hailing all the way from San Francisco!” Zayn watches as Niall perks up slightly, “We have Zayn Malik, here to break the tradition by first saying a few words before his performance. Take it away, Zayn.” The announcer steps back from the microphone and looks over at him in encouragement.

Zayn hesitantly takes a step into the spotlight. The pub is surprisingly quiet as he reddens under the light. 

He fumbles with the piece of paper, almost dropping it with the way his hands are shaking.

“Um,” he takes a deep breath and then another, “Um, I’m not from here, but I’ve heard a _lot_ about Mullingar. About how wonderful it is.” He tries to let out a confident laugh but his brain sends him choking instead.

Bressie lets out a drunken yell in agreement. Zayn nods in acknowledgement, his mouth attempting a smile.

Zayn takes a peek at the piece of paper.

 _[Clever opener]_ , the first line reads.

He really needs to learn how to plan ahead.

“I’m obviously not from America, but while I was there I met the most wonderful, best boy. And he’s from Mullingar, so that really says something.” Zayn winces internally, he’s just repeating himself at this point.

“The boy changed my life. He made me realize I was a worthwhile person and helped me laugh at times when I thought I couldn’t. But I just took him for granted.” He makes eye contact with Niall then. The boy gapes back at him like he can’t believe his eyes that Zayn is here for him. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. But I think that has been one of the worst. So I flew all the way from there to let this boy know that I treasure him. And, uh, you all probably have gotten by now that I’m not a great speaker, so I thought I could show how I really feel through a song. 

So, Niall, this is for you.”

Zayn ducks his head towards Sheila, the server at the piano, who gives him a big thumbs up back. The crowd is riled up with whispers at the mention of Niall, but the boy is still frozen. His eyes still glued onto Zayn’s form.

Well here goes nothing.

_This is morning_  
It's when I spend the most time  
Thinking 'bout what I've given up 

_This is a warning_  
When you start the day  
Just to close the curtains  
You're thinking 'bout what I've given up 

Zayn closes his eyes, holding the microphone stand, imagining it’s only just him and Niall in this pub.

_I read your letter_  
The one you left when you broke into my house  
I'm retracing every step you made  
And you said you meant it 

_There's a piece of me in_  
Every single second of every single day  
But if its true to tell me how we got this way 

He opens his eyes, finding Niall’s instantly. Blue eyes search his soul as Zayn tries to make Niall understand. Zayn’s voice turns husky as he pleads:

_Where are you now?_  
As we rearrange these songs again  
This mix could burn a hole in anyone  
It was you I was thinking of  
I can't get to you 

Zayn thinks of one of the mornings where the two had ended up tangled up in each other on his couch after a late night movie marathon. How could he have ignored the tingles where Niall had touched him? He wasn’t going to lose him. Not like this.

_This is my mixed tape for him  
Its like I wrote every note with my own fingers_

 

Zayn finishes the last two lines quietly. His eyes burn in sympathy as he sees tears fill Niall’s.

He’s surprised as everyone in the pub bursts into whoops and hollers as the last notes fall away. 

Zayn furrows his eyebrows when he seeks for Niall again to find an empty stool beside Bressie.

“Wow, that took a lot of guts, Z.”

Zayn feels like all the breath in his lungs leave him at the presence of having a smiling Niall in front of him, “Hi.”

Niall lets out a soft laugh, just for them. “What’s that dopey smile doing here, Malik?” He touches Zayn’s lips with his fingertips, “I never thought I would see you here inside the Druid’s Chair.”

He wants to say something clever back, but instead what comes out is, “Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Niall’s blue eyes sparkle in the low glow of electric candlelight.

Zayn’s only kissed three people in life, and although Niall doesn’t have the softest lips in his life, no one else has made his lips tingle so much like this. 

Niall licks into his mouth, a permanent smile etched against his own. Zayn’s lips part for him, slick and breathy as Niall traces the outline of his mouth, leaving a flicker of sparks in his wake. His breath is warm and tastes slightly of beer, his hands curl into Zayn’s shoulders, wrapping him gently. Zayn can feel his own heartbeat race inside his chest as Niall kisses him deeper, imprinting himself on Zayn’s lips.

The kiss ends as quickly as it began, but they don’t separate too far, pressed closely due to the crowd. 

He knocks his forehead against Niall’s and just sighs. He wants to bottle this moment and keep it to look back on days when he can’t get out of bed.

Niall snorts, effectively disturbing the moment, “I can’t believe you rode on an aeroplane for me.”

“I would do a lot more than that for you.” Zayn looks into the other man’s eyes, and he doesn’t like what he finds, “You know that right?” 

Niall avoids his eyes.

“Ni, you’ve saved me from depressive spirals just by being your fun, charming self. You are literally the best guy I know. You make me laugh and feel worthwhile.”

“So you feel obliged to repay me back by doing all this. That’s really all this is.” Niall pulls down one of the sleeves on his sweaters.

Zayn groans in frustration, “I fuckin’ love you, you dumb idiot!”

Shit.

“Shit. I didn’t want it to come out like that.” Zayn tries to backtrack as Niall freezes, “Er, I mean -”

He’s interrupted by a loud guffaw from Niall, “I love you too, you big oaf!”

Niall jumps on him, pushing him onto a table as some of the pub’s patrons look on with fondness.

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to make a final shout-out to Marissa, my co-worker who stopped everything to brain map my plot when I was stuck in a writer's block, just so I would stop talking about this damn fic. <3


End file.
